27th November, 1912.
Today is the saddest day of my life because the love of my life had died. I feel so bad, I don't want to do anything except talking to Emma and tell her that I feel so guilty and say that I miss her too much.
I want to see Emma, as she was before the illness. I feel guilty because I didn't pay much attention when she was ill. At this time, Emma's image is in my mind with her feeling of sadness. I feel that I am alone in all the world, I'm alone, the love of my life is dead.
Tomorrow I will write a poem expressing all the things I feel. I think that I would name it "The Voice" because I listen to her voice all the time.